We need to talk about Alfred
by Thefreakoutsideyourwindow
Summary: Being neglected constantly throughout childhood was bad enough, but when your brother turns out to be a murderous sociopath, Matthew finds himself travelling down a dangerous road, that only he himself can stop. (M for gore, more characters appear later on)
1. In the beginning

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: Hello guys! Quick word of warning, this story may or may not be sporadically updated (but don't let that put you off, I find inspiration at the strangest of times!) but I have a pretty good idea of how this is going to go. I have had this on my mind ever since I watched 'We need to talk about Kevin' (which I seriously recommend that you watch) and I haven't been able to let go since. Anyway, enough of my rambling and enjoy!**

* * *

**We need to talk about Alfred**

"It was always like this. No-one really noticed, because no-one really cared. It was just me and my brother. Alfred and I. And for a while, I didn't care either. His actions were his, and mine my own. At least it felt like that. But now, well..." The figure chuckled, but it was cold and empty.

"If one stares into the abyss for too long, they'll find it staring back, eh?"

* * *

20 years previous

Moonlight shone gracefully through the slightly dusty windows and into the humble dwelling, giving at an almost other worldly feel. Gorgeous marble table tops were littered with garbage, marring its beauty. Unnatural light flickered and changed colours, bouncing off the blank walls of the living room, small sounds accompanying it. Two children of the relative same height sat in front of the television, absorbing the techni coloured wonders as they tried to block out reality.

"WELL MAYBE IF YOU WERE HERE HALF THE FUCKING TIME, YOU'D UNDERSTAND!"

Thin walls shook in fear at the fury of the mistresses voice, booming through the plaster and floorboards. A louder and deeper voice countered it.

"NOT HERE?! WELL MAYBE YOU SHOULD TRY EARNING THE INCOME FOR A WHOLE FUCKING FAMILY!"

Matthew visibly flinched at hearing his fathers response, close to tears as the television show wasn't enough to soothe his nerves or distract his frazzled mind. Seeing this, Alfred wrapped his arm around Matthew in an attempt to comfort him, or at least make him feel safe. Snuggling into the warmth, the older of the two soon fell asleep into dreamland, the weight of reality falling off his shoulders.

"We'll get outta this hell hole Mattie," Alfred whispered, the moonlight giving the blue of his eyes a searing edge as he glared at the cold, blank walls of their 'home', "I'll make sure of it."


	2. The waterfall boy

**Disclaimer: I own nothing.**

**A/N: Whooee, that was quick. If you're following this, hello again! If not, hi anyway! This story may start out slow, but stick with it and it'll roll like an avalanche. Chapters will probably get longer. Enjoy!**

* * *

**We need to talk about Alfred**

"When was the first time something happened?" A cold voice asked, detached of emotion or even the very thought that something like this would be so painful to talk about, so _terrifying_ to know that you had just accepted it without a word in the heat of the moment, as if there was no other option.

Cold sweat broke out across his forehead, making him shudder as he avoided the piercing eyes that bore deep down into his core and ripped away mercilessly at all the protective layers he had built up around himself all these years.

"Well?" The voice asked again, somewhat irritated, and pressed further, like applying more salt to a paper cut, squeezing, twisting and just drawing out the pain until it was unbearable and you'd have to snatch your hand away.

Biting down roughly on his lower lip, calloused from all the years of doing so, Matthew inhaled deeply through his nostrils, and began the seemingly sweet tale that turned into his most vicious and vivid nightmare that he was living.

* * *

_It's days like this that really drag on..._The little boy thought, swinging his legs absent mindedly from the crooked porch outside their cheap, ratty house, the off white paint hanging onto the stone walls pathetically. Heat swarmed the area, infesting everything that it touched, causing many of the unattended plants in the household to finally shrivel up and die. Sunlight cascaded down from the cerulean sky, giving everything else a more inviting appearance as a gentle breeze caused dust to roll across their dead back yard.

_Not that I mind._ Matthew thought happily, humming a little French tune that they learn in school that day, but not loud enough so that anyone could hear him. He'd get in real trouble if that happened. His thoughts began to take a darker turn, and, almost as if copying him, the sun slowly hid behind a cloud, bringing back the dull reality of his situation, as if it was taunting him.

_Mom and Dad have been getting angrier lately..._ Last week his mommy had come downstairs with these weird splodges of blue and purple all over her and sent them both up to bed with an angry and firm '.'so they knew that even she wouldn't pretend to be nice to them this time. _Daddy keeps getting mad at Alfie too..._

Alfred, Matthew's brother only one year apart, looked like a mirror image of him apart from having shorter wheat blonde hair, an unruly cow lick and the bluest eyes that even strangers would fall for. Yet aside from that, their personalities were literally polar opposites. Having grown afraid of the beatings that would follow, Matthew soon lost all self-confidence and became introverted, not saying anything unless absolutely necessary, and even then he preferred to stay in the background, out of sight and out of mind.

On the other hand, it seemed that Alfred was unable to sense the waves of rage that practically rolled off of their parents when he remained defiant against them, or did an extremely unpredictable and 'anti-social' as his parents had called it, act. One time he even started a fire in the neighbour's house because he apparently 'hated the look of it', giving them extra beatings that night. He seemed to be getting more out of control as each day would go by.

Thinking about Alfred caused his thoughts to drift towards him, or, more particularly, what he said last night.

_Two figures, each within their small, respectable beds, tossed and turned as noisily as they dared, the tattered and worn covers morphing awkwardly over their shivering, near-naked bodies. Shouting and sobbing could be heard below, but neither of them actually dared to approach the sound, knowing all too well what was already occurring. To them it was an, if not daily, accustomed to occurrence._

_Silently, pulling down his cover so he could look at the rotting, bland ceiling, Alfred whispered out with determination in his eyes,_

"_Hey Mattie?"_

_After some quiet shuffling, a hesitant, shaking voice replied,_

"_What is it Al? We shouldn't be talking. If dad hears-" He was quickly cut off by his brother, replying in a insistent and slightly harsh tone,_

"_He won't. Not when he's busy downstairs with Mom."_

_Gulping, Matthew nodded, fearfully looking at the thin, wooden door which was their only protection from the monsters they called their 'parents'. Not seeing any subtle changes in the light outside the door, or hearing any footsteps, he warily looked back to Alfred who was sitting up too, his back resting against the plaster wall. Matthew had learnt to become observant, since if he wasn't, he would catch himself or face punishment._

_Sighing, he answered, "Fine, I give Al, now what is it?"_

_The statement of surrender had the younger boy grinning maniacally in delight, forcing himself not to bounce around on the covers before remembering what he was going to say. Sky blue eyes that seemingly held such innocence turned dark, like the murky abyss of the sea, impenetrable without becoming trapped in it, filled with malice and hatred._

"_You know that new Danish kid at school?" He spat quietly, words laced with venom._

_Looking upward, Matthew though about this for a moment before remembering and replied,_

"_Yeah, I know him. Matthias, right?"_

_Alfred nodded vigorously, his cow-lick bobbing in the motion as he recognised the name. Determined to get flawless support, just like he had all those other times when he stuck up for Mattie, he whispered elated,_

"_Yeah, that's him," And after pausing, looking into those violet eyes and knowing that he just __**had**__ to agree, he continued, "I'm gonna kill him."_

_After baulking for about a minuted, Matthew huffed, retorting, "Very funny, Al." As he quietly slid back into his bed, facing the wall and avoiding Alfred._

_Well, Alfred thought, that was not the reaction I was expecting. However, Alfred was not one to give up easily._

"_I'm serious Mattie!" He whispered harshly, whining a little along with it to hopefully add more effect. That always worked._

"_Why would you even do that Al? He hasn't done anything to you." Matthew replied, hugging his thin covers closer to him in the hopes of getting more heat._

_Grinding down on his teeth, Alfred bounced back onto his bed, pulling the covers up, silently fuming at Matthew in his head. Matt __**owed**__ him! After all he had done for him! Well, his brother would come around to seeing the truth eventually._

"_He's just a bad guy Mattie, I can tell. So I've gotta get him first before he gets one of us." Alfred spoke firmly, resolutely, leaving no room for argument._

_Realising that it was a moot point to argue, Matthew simply blocked out the rest of Alfred's ramblings, simply brushing it off as one of those phases that would pass. When he was in Alfred's year, there was a Russian he didn't like. But he just didn't like him, that was it. It'll just be the same for Alfred._

_However, being too occupied on the thought of getting precious sleep to escape from the dreadful reality, Matthew didn't hear the sinister whisper of "I'll prove it." from Alfred as sleep claimed him once more._

Bringing himself back to reality, Matthew listened contently to the sound of birdsong in the trees as the breeze gentle picked up, combing through his hair like the gentle mother's hands which he had never experienced. Sun padded his face, giving the only warmth that he knew was attainable within this mortal world, calming his senses. However, the sun wasn't as strong as before, and opening his eyes he saw it to be about four in the afternoon. Alfred wasn't home yet.

Fearful eyes widened, realising that Dad would be home any minute from work. Matthew quickly bounced off of the porch, his buttocks having gone slightly numb from the lack of movement as he sprinted to the forest where Alfred had said he was going to play in a few hours ago and could only hope he would make it to warn him in time.

* * *

Frozen to the spot, Matthew could only look in terror as he stumbled across the scene in front of him. With each silent breath he took, a scream wanted to rip itself from his throat, but only pained whispers of breaths came out in exchange. His knees felt weak and his tongue felt heavy too as he felt the all familiar taste of bile crawling up his throat and was messily sick in a bush next to him, unable to hold back the nausea, terror and tears.

He felt eyes lock onto his figure.

Ripping through branches and shrubs that would seem beautiful given any other time, Matthew had ran into the woods to simply warn Alfred that their father would be home soon, and would not like to see him 'rip Alfred a new one' as he had heard before in one of his uncontrolled rages. He was able to locate Alfred quickly, seeing the bright yellow cloth of his tee-shirt on his back and hearing him panting heavily, probably just playing a game. However, what he saw was no simple game.

"Mattie." Alfred called out, causing Matthew to snap his head up and look at his brother, wiping his mouth with the back of his hand.

"Help me."

For a moment, Matthew could only stare at what he deemed his brother. Blood stains were splattered over his once welcoming tee-shirt, marring the original colour and giving it a shocking appeal. His eyes looked tired and clouded, as if he could cry at any given moment. His stance was firm and unwavering, his limbs not shaking unlike Matthew's and had bloodied fists from punching, yet he still conveyed uncertainty. Wheat blonde hair and a clean complexion were also haphazardly covered in blood, causing it to crust as his hairs began to stick together.

All of this terrified him senseless to the point where he would much prefer his parent's wrath if he went home then and there than to spend a single second more with Alfred. Yet hearing the desperate plea in such a small voice, such a voice unlike Alfred's...that scared him more. The thought of his brother becoming like him both terrified and disgusted him, and, even though, he would get less beatings, he would not be himself.

_I am a big brother._

Matthew thought, moving towards Alfred and holding him in an embrace sticky from the rapidly drying blood.

_I am Alfred's older brother._

He made his way to the site of the murder, holding Alfred's slightly smaller hand all the way.

_I am meant to protect him._

Matthew didn't even flinch when he saw the mangled Dane's corpse, as his mind was elsewhere. He had well and truly been brutally murdered, beaten to death Matthew figured, judging from the fist marks and bloodied bruises where the skin was broken from protruding bones. Only one of his eyes remained, gazing distantly up at the sky, almost longingly, wishing he hadn't died here. His skull had been cracked and a trail of crimson ran down his quickly paling skin as more blood oozed out from the force of gravity. He picked up the corpse, and carried it to the nearby waterfall.

_As no one else will._

The waterfall was of a decent height, with many jagged rocks along the way and a large amount at the bottom. Matthew had seen plenty of criminal shows late after his bedtime, as their parent's could care less, where bodies had been found mutilated and covered up in many ways. The water would wash away the finger prints and the bruises shaped like fists would be hit by more jagged rocks and conceal the act. All in all, it would look like a simple game of tag gone wrong, an accident, a tragedy. With that thought, he dropped the body in.

_He protected me for all these years._

They made their way back to the murder site, picking up a large plastic coke bottle that had been discarded there and filling it up in the river before pouring the water onto the grass, washing away the blood. After which, they tossed the bottle in the river to rid it of any potential fingerprints. It was sundown by the time they made their way back home, and it seemed their father hadn't even bothered coming, probably taking a diversion to a bar or a brothel where the women wouldn't protest against his actions.

_So I shall protect him for the rest._

Since their mother was fast asleep on some sleeping pills of some sort, the brothers quickly collected firewood outside the house without any disturbance and placed it in a large barrel in their back yard, tossing all their bloodied clothing in as Matthew tossed a match in.

_For even if it seems so wrong._

In a frenzy, they both bathed themselves in cold water, not caring if the gas bill wasn't paid, as they had more important things to do. After hurriedly both getting dressed, Matthew poured bleach down the drain to rid the bathroom of the stench and traces of blood. Silently, they made their way outside of the house again, rubbing some dirt into their arms and twigs in their hair for a convincing act.

_And even if I go to hell._

Stumbling into the police office, they both explained their story in tears, how they had gone out to play with Matthias in the woods as Alfred called him there when Matthew was doing his homework, how they had played tag for so long until it was sundown and couldn't seem to find Matthias. Matthias' and their parents were phoned, but only the brother's mother arrived first, hugging them both with semi-genuine concern that she could never show in private, even if her life depended upon it. After they were taken home, a search party was set up for Matthias.

_This is the duty of a big brother._

Matthias' body was found in the morning, almost unrecognisable to his own family who sobbed and sobbed and sobbed, and even though they were upset, they didn't blame the two boys, knowing it was traumatic for them too. His death was declared accidental, and there was no one to truly blame, at least no one they could find. The case dubbed 'the waterfall boy' was quickly dismissed.

_And I shall complete it well._

Alfred and Matthew were Scot-free.


End file.
